


The Rhythm of Rebellion

by orphan_account



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen, Multi, Original Song, musical episode
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-03-26 13:57:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3853216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Night Vale fell to StrexCorp once. They will not fall again. The rebellion has begun, except this time, its with singing.  While the town fights for their freedom, a musical epidemic rages, causing everyone to randomly burst into song. Can Night Vale defeat Strex while harmonizing? Will Cecil and Carlos get a romantic duet? And the most important: does any of this actually matter? Read on to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Musical episode time! So currently SailorPtah is doing a version of Year Two as a musical, which you absolutely need to check out now: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1650692/chapters/3500306. I wanted to do a version of Old Oak Doors as a musical though, ever since I saw the interview that came out a few weeks ago saying that there might possibly be an episode of the sort in the actual show. So behold.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three Strex workers meet one fateful night to discuss matters of conquest.

The same night that Cecil and Carlos truly understood the Lights Above the Arbys, a secret meeting was held deep in the sub-basements of StrexCorp Synernists Inc.’s main building. It was not secret because of hidden intentions; every StrexCorp member knew about the year-long plan for taking over their sister town of Night Vale. No, it was secret because the three employees hidden in the dimly lit, viscera-draped room didn’t want anyone to hear them singing.

It had been a few days since a strange “sickness” had swept through Desert Bluffs, causing everyone to randomly burst into song. Oddly enough, there had also been musical accompaniment, but either way it was a disruption to work, and the productivity of said work. Luckily, Strex scientists had quickly developed a cure with absolutely no laser collars forcing them to move faster, and said that the problem would be gone the next day. 

Word on the street was that this malady of uncontrollable singing had not reached Night Vale, which was good. No one wanted a repeat of the unfortunate “conga line incident” that had occurred over by the Publix, especially while they were trying to take over the town.

The effects hadn’t completely worn off however, and it was rather embarrassing, as any good employee would find it. Thus, the three plotters were hidden down in the sub-basement so as to prevent anyone from hearing a song, should it occur. 

Kevin sat at the head of the small, round table, which was rather difficult to do considering the shape, but he felt that it worked. He was the Voice of Desert Bluffs, so he technically had the most authority. The power of the press was simply wonderful! It just made him want to smile even more. 

His supervisor, Lauren Mallard, and best friend (whom he had absolutely never, ever once had feelings for) Marco Ramirez, sat on either side of him, forming a sort of oddly shaped peace sign. How deliciously ironic.

“Well gentlemen,” Lauren began conversationally, “you both know why we’re here.” 

“Skip to it Lauren.” Marco interjected. “We need to make this fast, before a rogue song starts.”

There had been tension between the Strex Scientist and Kevin’s program director ever since they had first met. Lauren was savagely focused on the most work getting done in the least amount of time, while Marco demanded the freedom to do as much erratic science as he pleased. That and he "strongly disliked" smiling, an action that Lauren performed on a daily basis, so obviously she loved it just as much as Kevin did.

Lauren gave Marco a quick glare, then immediately resumed her grin. “Very well then.” she continued. 

“As you both have been privy to, our plan to take over Night Vale and introduce them to the glorious light of the Smiling God involves several steps, each being taken over the course of a year. Subterfuge takes time you know. We will begin by purchasing the Night Vale Community Radio station, and using several employees to help gain followers there. Our big target is the Voice of Night Vale: Cecil Palmer.

“There are doubts as to whether or not we can convert him to StrexCorp’s ways, and while I am confident in our abilities, I find it best to always have a backup plan. That, Marco and Kevin, is where you two come in.”

“What are we supposed to do, kidnap him?” Marco asked sarcastically. 

Lauren’s smile stretched even wider. “Close.” she answered. “Cecil is going to be a tough nut to crack, and we may have to resort to cruder measures. Thus, I have developed a second plan of attack.”

As Lauren said this, the sudden blare of disembodied trumpets could be heard. That could only mean one thing: the “sickness” was still around them, and a song was coming on. Lauren’s smile slipped from her face for a millisecond, before coming back in full force. 

Keep grinning. she thought. I mustn't let a silly song prevent me from smiling!  


Alien words flew into her head from out of nowhere, and with an ever-widening beam, she turned to the two men next to her and began to sing.

“We are friends, are we not?”

“Loyal StrexCorp employees.”, Kevin cut in without missing a beat. Drat, this was a three-part song.

“We collaborate,” began Marco, “No project late,” sang Lauren, grinning as she interrupted him, “for our Smiling Deity.”

“There are ways we posses to add members to our team.” Kevin continued, steepling his hands below his chin.

“Show them the light,”

“Then douse their fight, wills broken at the seams.” Marco cut Lauren off again.

Just as Lauren was about to kick him under the table, Kevin’s voice broke her train of thought.

“Keeping all protests suppressed and darkness hidden, safe in a sheath of productivity.”

“Because history is the story told by the victors of the war. You beguile a little-”

“Smile a little, knowing-”

“All the while they’re ‘round your-

“finger.” Kevin and Marco finished together.

“Who can rebel if they think they’d die for what we’re fighting for?” Lauren cut in, palms open and facing up. “Not an intern-”

“Or a farmer,”

“Not his brother or the station,”

“Or a charmer.” Weird lyric choice I get. Thought Marco. It was then Kevin’s turn to interrupt his thoughts as he began the second verse.

“So we all are agreed, let’s be subtle, yet precise.”

“We must seize control, and take a toll before he can think twice.” Lauren trilled.

“For our plan to succeed, we must keep this goal in sight: Cecil Palmer stays, and ends his days in our prison of light!”

Kevin’s ghoulish grin stretched wider. “Where the only words he’ll speak are those of madness, kept far away from his precious town and show!”

“Because history is the story told by the men who work the most!” Marco sang, returning to the crescendo.”

Lauren glanced aside to Kevin slyly. “You medicate a few-”

“ to make an army just for you to write your fable.” he finished.

“What shall become of his own resolve when he learns of a new host?” Marco sang.

“The strong-”

“and industrious-”

“are now all quite free to join us at our table.”

“I’ll be a beacon in their time of uncertainty. I will be Night Vale’s guiding Voice to show the way, turn them to day.” Kevin crooned, gazing up at the ceiling in mock reverence. 

Marco bit his lip and glanced downward. “A part of me wishes Cecil won’t have to be hurting. But I can see, It’s him or me,”

Kevin’s inky eyes seemed to darken, if that was even possible. “Let him sit there and yearn for all we’ve burned!” 

“Let him burn!” belted Lauren as the orchestra sounds swelled into the largest crescendo yet.

The three slammed their hands down on the table in unison, singing with triumph, “History’s a story told by the people who can rule!”

Marco swept his hands up from the surface and clenched them into fists. “Thus the end of night draws near,”

“the time of light is here and productivity.” Kevin finished neatly, delicately steepling his fingers.

“What of the cost of one fool Voice so the Smiling God survives?” Lauren sang, increasing volume with an air of smugness.

Marco began, “He’s the price we have to pay-”

“To show this simple town the way that things can be.” Kevin concluded, spreading his hands.

The music swelled dramatically as Lauren sang, “He was standing in our way, and thus they all shall rue the day!”

“ So goes the story!” Marco shouted, pushing himself up from his chair.

“Our endless story!” Kevin added, repeating Marco’s movements along with Lauren.

“Here ends his story!” They sang in three-part harmony, voices vibrating with power and purpose as the song ended with three quick notes from the strings.

The three Strex employees were quiet for a moment, dropping back into their standard-brand office chairs while catching their breath. 

“Well,” Marco said finally, breaking the silence, “you have to admit it got the point across.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's song was A Story Told (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SicOw6aNx3M) from the Count of Monte Cristo.


	2. The Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil heads off to work, The Man in the Tan Jacket checks on the army in the desert otherworld, and Dana prepares for war.

Exactly one year later, it happened again.

 

Granted, this wasn’t exactly the best time for a musical epidemic to sweep through Night Vale, but it was technically their turn. Too bad for StrexCorp that that particular day was Invasion Time, causing them to become part of the melodic sickness sweeping the town.

 

The Company Picnic was a mess of songs, and it was so unproductive.

 

There was one citizen however, that had managed to escape from that horrible place (by no means of angelic help whatsoever). He had only been under a musical epidemic once before, during his junior year, but this time was different. This time, there was his town on the line, not just a school play.

 

But that’s a tale for another day.

 

It just so happened that on the morning of June 15, 2014, Cecil was sneaking to work. The whole espionage part was because the town was crawling with Strex workers.

 

While edging around the back corner of the now abandoned White Sand Ice Cream Shop, Cecil felt someone softly tap him on the shoulder.

 

He whipped his head around in alarm to see a man in a tan jacket, holding a deerskin suitcase, standing behind him. Cecil opened his mouth to ask just what this guy thought he was doing, but was abruptly silenced by a rush of words.

 

“My name is Emmett, I’m your brother, but you can’t remember me because I was cursed, I was the one who stuffed an eldritch horror in Steve Carlsberg’s locker in 7th grade when he broke up with you, but everyone thought you did it, so there’s proof of kinship, and yes we’ve met several times before but you can never remember.”

 

Emmett took a few gulps of air after his speech, while Cecil stared dumbfounded for a few seconds before the cursed memories clicked back into place.

 

“Ohhhh, Emmet! I thought-”

 

“Well you were wrong.” Emmett interrupted. “Now today is the day when it all goes down, trust me I know, so I need to make sure you’re safe. Can I tag along while you get to work?”

 

Cecil snorted. “Look Emmett, I know big brothers are protective, but I’m fine.”

 

As he said this, the quick, bouncy strains of a cello could be faintly heard. After checking around the corner to make sure it was clear, Cecil turned back to his brother and began to sing purposefully.

 

“Into the light, it's time to go. To make it leave I have to go. Into the light- its time and so I must begin the journey. Into the light and through the streets, ‘tween friend and foe to do my show. Into the light to NCVR! Into the light to NVCR!

 

Emmett knit his brow in concern. “And you can avoid the company picnic?” he asked.

 

Rolling his eyes, Cecil replied, “The way is dark, it’s hidden well. I wont be dragged to that picnic hell. The night is my friend, the moon on my side.

He turned on the “puppy dog eyes”. “I know it's not that far, but do you have a car?”

 

His brother shook his head. “No, The car dealer could never remember me long enough to get one. It’s safer to walk anyway. I need to check on Dana, so be safe okay?”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Geez Emmett, I know what I’m doing.”

 

As Emmett watched his little brother slip around the corner and make a dash for the next building, he sighed. It was times like this when the man wished he had been there for Cecil more. Now, his brother couldn’t even remember him. And with what was coming soon… No, he needed to focus on the now, and get to the desert otherworld.

 

Turning around one more time to make sure he wasn’t being followed (even though that wouldn’t even make a difference), Emmet hurried in the opposite direction that Cecil had gone at a bouncy pace. As he walked the music nudged lyrics into his head.

 

“Into the light, and up the wall. The figures don’t know me at all. Into the light for once and all, so I can end my journey. Into the light to bring some news to Dana so that we won’t lose. No one can say what next shall come. Just one thing’s for sure: keep my visits mum. But into the light! Into the light! Into the light to Dana’s abode, and home for the start.”

 

OoooooooooooooooO

 

Out in the desert otherworld, Dana paced about a cluster of sand dunes while Carlos fiddled with his light-blocking device. The masked army was nearby, sharpening their tools and preparing for war.

 

Pausing for a moment, the former intern turned to Carlos.

 

“Do you think he’s coming?” she asked.

 

“Who?” the scientist answered.

 

“Everett!”

 

“Who’s Everett?”

 

Dana sighed. “Nevermind.” She turned towards the mountains (whose existence she had begrudgingly accepted), and began to sing softly to herself.

 

“Into the light, the time is now. We have to win,and I know how. Into the light to keep a vow; I must begin the journey. Straight through the light, I can’t delay because there is a war today. Into the light to start the end.”

 

From where he was walking, Everett sang, “Into the light to see a friend.”

 

OoooooooooooooooO

 

When Cecil finally slammed the station doors shut, he leaned against them for a moment to catch his breath. Looking down the hall at the abandoned rooms, once filled with other hosts such as himself who did less important and mythical shows, he felt a small pang. Usually Night Vale Community Radio was filled with a mix of terrified employees and Lovecraftian monsters bustling about their daily business. Then StrexCorp came… They were going to be avenged, that was a promise.

 

He walked briskly down the hall, picking up the song again as he went. “Into the light, I must be swift. The war begins and time's adrift. Into the light to fix the rift, I have to take the journey.”

 

Dana resumed her pacing and singing. “Into the light, the path is there. Its new to me so who can see. Into the light to make two three.”

 

Emmet peeked around the side of the Ralphs at the menacing Dog Park. “Into the light to visit Dana.”

 

Cecil pushed open his studio door. “Into the light to bring the news; to start the war-”

 

Dana spotted a figure several yards away, it’s long coat flapping in the hot, sandy wind. Rushing towards it, she sang, “to rally the forces so-”

 

“Into the light to NVCR!” Cecil trilled as he shoved a spare chair under the doorknob.

 

Through the unknowable laws of time and space, all three voices converged. “The way is dark. Its hidden well. We won't let this company keep their hell. The night is our friend, the moon on our side. Beware the Strex Employees-”

 

Cecil drew an intricate light-blocking symbol on the door. “I hope that they don’t find me.”

 

Their voices joined once more. “Into the light with cautious cheer, but it won’t hurt to have some fear. Into the light to battle fate, and customize our journey. Into the light to do the thing that makes it worth the journeying. Into the light-”

 

“To start the war!”

 

“To bring the news!”

 

“To fight with Dana!”

 

Dana reached The Man in the Tan Jacket and grabbed his hand, the two racing across the dunes toward the encampment.

 

Slipping on his headphones, Cecil slid into his chair and pricked his finger, letting a drop of blood slip onto the microphone.

 

“To see- to find- to get- to bring- to make- to show- to take back our town and home! Into the light! Into the light! Into the light, and out of the light, and home when it starts!”

  
_On Air_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this one was a doozy! The lyrics at the beginning of the song are too specific to the play for me to include them, so I used the basic chorus, which was a lot more maleable.  
> Today's song was Prologue from Into the Woods https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lrDU8DcT9lU


	3. Piano in the Prison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something isn't right with Tamika, and Janice has no clue how to escape. Luckily, the epidemic spreads to the StrexCorp Juvenile Detention Center to aid them.

Janice wasn’t very good at picking up the small things when it came to emotions, but even she knew something wasn’t right with Tamika. Her fearless leader had barely spoken for days, and what had been a spirited, scrappy thirteen year old who had immediately pulled apart her “annoying” shackles when the pair had first been taken into StrexCorp Juvenile Detention Center, had almost turned into a hopeless lump of meat alarmingly fast.

There must be something in the drinking water. Janice mused. She herself had the ability to retain massive amounts of it in the fish tail that made up her lower body, but Tamika had to drink. The young vigilante wouldn’t put it past Strex to drug the water so as to “pacify” her friend. 

No matter the cause, something had to be done to lift Tamika’s funk. And fast. It was June 15, and any idiot with a brain could look at the past years and see that June 15 was a pretty important day. There had been the mass spider uprising, then the group of time travelers from a few centuries in the future visiting, Carlos the Scientist coming to town, and last year’s invasion of the tiny army under Lane 5 of the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex, along with her Uncle Cecil and Carlos finally sharing romantic inclinations. 

Problem was, Tamika was the one who knew how to bolster troops and get them inspired to fight. Janice was better with machines. Nevertheless, she thought, I need to get Tamika’s eyes back on the prize. But how?

She bit her lip and stared up at the chilly steel ceiling of their prison cell as Tamika sighed despondently for the 454th time. Think, think think. 

Suddenly, an idea popped into Janice’s head with a series of quick, disembodied violin strums. Of course. A song was the perfect way to cheer Tamika up! And she wouldn’t even have to come up with the words, so there would be no stupid stumbling over her tongue! The wheelchair-bound mermaid sent a silent thanks up the the Beams Above before deliberately looking in the opposite direction of her friend innocently and softly singing.

“The shoggoth king, did everything, to set the world afire, as it’s told. Followed orders to a T, but soon dead he would be. He couldn’t do a thing, he just wasn’t that bold. An inactive player in the story.”

Tamika glanced over at her.

“Janice, what are you-” she began, before getting cut off by the next verse.

“Like Cthulhu and Yog Sothoth; who tried to consume all of time, they being wroth. That arrogance, and them just playing by the book, would take from them all that could be took. And they went back to sleep after that big fail.”

Tamika now looked more confused and annoyed than depressed, which was something. Janice turned and sang directly to her, “Dunno why they didn’t simply alter their tale?”

“Janice, are you seriously doing what I think you’re doing.”

Janice clasped her hands and dropped her head onto them, flicking her fins in time with the beat. “We’re expected to do what’s expected and not yell.” She then whipped her hands apart dramatically, folded them in her lap, tilted her head, and stared sideways slyly at Tamika. 

“Sometimes you have to take a stand and rebel.”

Tamika’s brow furrowed in confusion as disembodied trumpets joined in.

“Just because they tell you things can’t be changed, it doesn’t mean that they cannot be rearranged. If we let this corporation stay deranged then things stay the same.”

Janice leaned into her friend, who had now somewhat figured out the situation, and grinned at Tamika’s sigh of exasperation. 

“Even though we're small we know a thing or two, we can't just sit around and keep on being blue. Cause this whole revolution rides on me and you, and if we both give up then you know StrexCorp will win. And that's not right.”

Janice then pushed herself off of the steel bench and into her wheelchair, twisting the tops of the wheels around so that she faced Tamika.

“Sleeping Beauty, without a duty, had it pretty easy, from things that I can see.  
She had those three pixies, with their magic. Suddenly her nap was a lot less tragic. But we don't have a prince to save us; oh well. 

She then grinned in an almost sinister manner.

“Guess we'll give StrexCorp Synernists Inc. hell.”

Tamika’s half smile gave Janice hope, and she launched into the chorus with gusto.

“Just because they tell you that things can’t be changed, it doesn’t mean that they cannot be rearranged. If we let this corporation stay deranged then things stay the same.”

Janice glanced over her shoulder at a passing guard who was listening to some corporate approved song on his Strex-Pod. “Even though we're small we know a thing or two, we can't just sit around and keep on being blue.” 

In his distraction, he was walking unusually close to the cell; close enough that Janice was able to reach out and, by her fingertips, slip the cell code combination paper from his pocket. 

“Cause this whole revolution rides on me and you and if we both give up then, you know StrexCorp will win. And that's not right.” She and Tamika let out two tiny gasps of delight at this acquisition, the latter shooting up from the bench and over to the door.

“And if it's not right.” Janice sang, slipping her finger through the bars and punching in the unlock code. 

“You have to make things right.”

Their cell door slid open softly. Tamika gripped the handlebars of Janice’s wheelchair and sprinted as quietly as she could down the corridor, pushing her friend along. Turning a corner, she picked up the song.

“With the smallest of hellions there is a rebellion.”

“A fight of your own in the clack of a stone.”, Janice filled in as Tamika shouted themes from Oliver Twist at two guards.

“A fire can start, with the hint of a spark,”

“The dimmest of lights can still disperse the dark!”

“Every night,” they sang together, barreling past a workroom, “starts with the hint of a moon. Ev’ry wait, ends with keeping of ‘soon’. If you’re told that you’re worthless, then go prove them wrong. You just need to find, your own kind of strong!”

The pair flew past several other hallways, crying literary analyses to stun the guards as the exit came into sight. 

“Cause though we're small we know a thing or two, we can't just sit around and keep on being blue. Cause this whole revolution rides on me and you so, let’s make a change. Just because they tell you that things can’t be changed, it doesn’t mean that they cannot be rearranged. If we let this corporation stay deranged then that would be giving up and, you know StrexCorp will win. And that's not right. And if it's not right. You have to make things right!”

Janice reached out and pressed the wheelchair access button for the steel double doors. They swung open with a fwoomph, and she and Tamika burst out into the encroaching sunlight. 

Working quickly, Tamika pushed the wheelchair over to an empty helicopter, hoisted Janice in, tossed the chair into the storage trunk, and slipped into the control seat, activating the startup sequence simultaneously. As the ‘copter rose into the air, to the chagrin of several patrol officers, Janice wriggled her way into the passenger seat. She then displayed a hand gesture that no regular ten year old should know to the ground below. Both girls sang in tandem as the detention center became smaller and smaller below them.

“But only we can reinstate the militia, only we can finally finish our mission! Sometimes you have to stand and rebel!”

When prison guards searched the cell later, the only thing they found was a paperback copy of Leonard Cohen’s Book of Longing, a bookmark lain across page 210 with the words “I AM FOUND.” written on it in the distinctive handwriting of a middle schooler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back on a steady update schedule! Not that this fic even has a schedule. Whatever. Anyway, this chapter was especially fun to write, as Matilda is one of my favorite musicals. The Strex rebellion and Matilda's events are shockingly similar.  
> Today's song was Naughty from Matilda the Musical https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oewVISY1Yhs


	4. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tamika and Lauren hash it out.

Tamika could not believe what she was hearing.

This lady, this absolute _monster_ , had the nerve to suggest tearing down the library and selling her stupid company’s brand-name books there.

This was an outrage, this was madness! This could not be allowed to continue. She threw open the door and stormed into the studio.

“Don’t you dare!” she shouted, causing Lauren’s wretched head to turn around faster than a bullet train. Tamika hoped the witch got whiplash.

“Don’t you dare try talking about books!”

A look of shock and delight spread across Cecil’s face. “Tamika!” he cried, “Is that you?”

“Yes,” she replied, “I– I found their secret location using a radio triangulation technique I learned by reading an anthology of Emily Dickinson poems.”

“Lauren? Be careful, she has a slingshot and a heavy-looking edition of John Osborne’s play _Look Back in Anger_!” Kevin warned, taking a few steps back.

Lauren grinned smugly. “Thank you, Kev, but I will happily deal with this myself. I just so happen to have my own slingshot, and an extremely heavy edition of the Strex Employee Handbook.”

“Well, Lauren? You have the situation under control! I’m just going to go and oversee some important things elsewhere. Let me know if – when you take care of this child.” Kevin said, scurrying out the door.

Tamika and Lauren began to pace around each other, fingering their books. _Look Back in Anger_ seemed to shiver in anticipation, Tamika’s gentle touch keeping it primed and at the ready.

“ I love books.” began Tamika. “Take that book you’re holding! It looks ill-written, ill-conceived, full of bad ideas expressed badly…I bet it lacks narrative arcs and an appreciation for the flow of language. It looks like the _worst_ book in the history of books! But here’s the thing…it’s still a book. And I love books. So, you do not deserve to even hold it.”

Lauren snarled at her. “Then come and get it!”

“Tamika, stay alert!” Cecil quipped.

“Let me throw some ideas at you!” Lauren crowed, and suddenly there was a blur of noise coming straight at Tamika. She tried to dodge it, but it was too late, and the hard-packed ball of ideas slammed right into her.

The world turned blurry, and Lauren’s triumphant cries faded into the background. Tamika could hear Cecil asking her something, but it was impossible to focus. There was a huge weight pushing down on her chest, and now Lauren was talking about… money? 

Oh _heck_ no.

“Ugh…”

Tamika pushed the blurriness from her vision and forced herself upright. The ringing in her ears cleared and she could hear Lauren lamenting her apparent return.

“This’ll just take a second.”, the abomination was saying.

Tamika shifted into a fighting stance and began stomping out the morse code signal for her squad to ready themselves. Blood pounded in her ears, and every muscle in her body tensed. 

“Whoa!” she sang, holding the note just long enough to see Lauren’s face shift into a grimace. Good.

“Never again will you get the best of me! Never again will you take away our freedom. And we won't forget the day we fought, for the right to take a stand and rebel!”

The two women began circling around each other once more, Tamika’s song reverberating throughout the room. 

“Never again will the prison door slam! Never again will we be oppressed, and never again will I doubt it when this town says that they believe in me!”

There was the rapid stomping of feet, and suddenly a swarm of children burst into the studio.

“Never again!”, they sang, “Never again will we live under you! Never again, we know that…”

Lauren began to look worried, which was just what Tamika needed to launch into the chorus.

“We are insurgent children… Living in insurgent times! We sing insurgent songs, using insurgent rhymes. We'll be insurgent children, ‘til our insurgence’s done! Your company’s leave is urgent. We're insurgent!”

Ella, Mixie, and Parker began to close in on Lauren, but she darted away before they could grab her. Diego spread his wings and flew up to the ceiling, where he attempted to drop a net upon the supervisor. Unfortunately, she was quicker than he had anticipated, and dodged the web by a hair.

“We are insurgent children… Living in insurgent times! We sing insurgent songs, using insurgent rhymes. We'll be insurgent children, ‘til our insurgence’s done! Your company’s leave is urgent. We're insurgent!”

“You’d better run, you’d better yield!” sang Lorna. “Take out your clipboard and use it as a shield!”

“You’ll have a wound that cannot be healed!” Elliot promised. “We are a might that’s been concealed!”

“And now we’re coming from left field!” the entire group cried.

“We are convergent; we're insurgent! We can live our lives how we like! You cannot take wrong and say, it is right! Every fight with you we will win, 'cause we're beginning to begin! So we will not stay inside the line, cause we will disobey you every time! There is nothing that your StrexCorp can do! We will take your smiles and say F- you! You didn't think you could push us too far, but there's no going back now, we are… I-N-S-U-R-G-E-N-T!”

“Come on!” yelled Tamika as the group circled around Lauren.

“S-P-E-N-T, we’re...S-P-E-N-T! We'll be I-N-S-U-R-G-E-N-T! It is 2-L-8-4-U, we're insurgent!” they chanted. Annie and Willow grabbed onto Lauren’s arms, while Hector dived for her right leg.

“We are insurgent children… Living in insurgent times! We sing insurgent songs, using insurgent rhymes. We'll be insurgent children, ‘til our insurgence’s done! - It's too L-8-4-U! We are insurgent children… Living in insurgent times! We sing insurgent songs, using insurgent rhymes. We'll be insurgent children, ‘til our insurgence’s done! - It's too L-8-4-U!”

The entire squad swarmed Lauren and pushed her on top of the crowd, her shrieks echoing throughout the station as the carried her out the door crying, “We are insurgent!”

“Well done, young Ms. Flynn.”, Cecil praised

Tamika grinned at the StrexCorp bunker’s microphone, then hurriedly began inputting the lockdown code into the station servers. 

“I’m securing this frequency.”, she announced. “We’ll keep broadcasting instructions from here. Stay vigilant, Night Vale!” 

Tamika then disconnected the StrexCorp frequency from the Night Vale one, and pulled up a chair to the mic.

Today was going to be a good day.


	5. Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The book club begins the fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just recently saw a local production of American Idiot, so I was able to churn this chapter out in a day. This song is one of the best in the show, and the entire musical just fits so well with the year two arc, I had to include at least one number.

Atop a sand dune overlooking town, framed by the light of the midday sun, stood a gang of children.

They were of various shapes and sizes, shades and ages, but they all stood as one. Each carried a tote bag or satchel, which held in them a collection of books. Some also had other forms of weaponry, such as plasma rifles, laser pistols, knives, and the occasional katana.

Standing at the front of the group was Tamika Flynn, her copy of _The Subtle Knife_ held close in one hand, a slingshot in the other. Her eyes were dark and worn, impossibly wise and unbearably old. A menagerie of scars dotted her body, a connect-the-dots of battle memories. 

Behind her, wheelchair missiles primed and at the ready, sat her second in command: Janice. She finished inputting a lockdown code for several supply bunkers and looked up at Tamika, waiting for a signal.

Down below, the town of Night Vale swarmed with every bit of resistance StrexCorp had to offer. Biomechs roamed the streets, office workers huddled in bloody clusters, and a herd of Strex Pets guarded city hall. 

The chain link fence surrounding the company picnic strained with the force of hundreds of citizens, hoping desperately for a rescue. 

Tamika raised her hand to the troops behind her, and each one snapped to attention. She held them there for a moment, and then brought it down in one swift movement.

With a fierce cry, the mass of rebel children poured down the dune, their footsteps mixing with the sound of a grungy guitar. 

With gusto, they launched themselves into battle, splitting off into sectors and racing through town. A gaggle of eighth graders made a beeline for the radio station and quickly formed a blockade, fighting off any who tried to disrupt the broadcast.

From Squadron 19, Molly Johnson’s voice rang out.

“Don’t wanna be a Night Valean idiot!” she sang, thrusting her knife into the belly of a biomech. “Don’t want a town under the Strex media!”

Beside her, Alex Conifer kicked aside a lone Strex Pet. 

“And can you hear the sounds of hysteria? Our subliminal messed up dystopia.”

The group pulled together into a tight circle to protect Eloise Winnifred, who was charging up her favorite pyrokinetic attack. At precisely the right moment, they all dropped to the ground as a burst of fire erupted from around her, burning her robotic attackers to a crisp.

The squad lept to their feet, did a quick head count, and dashed to their next battle station as their voices blended together.

“Welcome to a new kind of tension, all across the smiling nation where everything isn’t meant to be okay! Corpocratic dreams of tomorrow; we’re not the ones meant to follow. For that’s enough to argue!”

Squadron 17 quickly accepted them into their fold, and the combined teams continued to beat back the encroaching forces.

 

Across town, Squadron 3 shouted the themes of Son of Neptune at a group of grinning office workers. René Belaña sent a volley of arrows into the crowd, and stabbed another one into a biomech.

“Well maybe we’re the worst part of America!” she sang. “I’m not a part of the Strex Corp agenda.”

Ryan Peterson shot a blast of lightning at a be-suited woman, missing Olivia Yelnip by a few inches. 

“Now everybody do the propaganda, and don’t forget to leave a memoranda!”

Squadron 8 was in the thick of it, with every child fighting at least two enemies at once. Rachel Rogers smacked a biomech with her copy of _Turnabout_ , while Elliot Haner drop kicked a Strex Pet into the nearest garbage bin. 

“Welcome to a new kind of tension,” the group cried, “all across the smiling nation where everything isn’t meant to be okay! Corpocratic dreams of tomorrow; we’re not the ones meant to follow. For that’s enough to argue!”

The sound of their voices flowed throughout the town, reaching the ears of the citizens trapped in the company picnic. Twins Oren and Able Tyler shape-shifted into rhinos and barreled through the fence, knocking over the picnic captains and blood-soaked wooden tables. Everyone poured through the hole and out into the battle. A few souls, led by Leanne Hart, rushed off to aid other groups, while some stayed to dual with the picnic captains. Steve Carlsberg headed off in the direction of the radio station, his wife, Abby, fending off attackers from behind.

The entire book club broke off into parts as the song swung back around, layering each voice together in a round.

“Don’t wanna be a Night Valean idiot! One town controlled by the mania. Their Smiling God breeds hysteria.”

The round finished, and the children sang the last line in unison.

“It’s calling out to our part of America.”

Tamika gave a simultaneously fearsome and joyful cry as she clobbered a smartly-dressed man with her book.

“Welcome to a new kind of tension, all across the smiling nation where everything isn’t meant to be okay! Corpocratic dreams of tomorrow; we’re not the ones meant to follow. For that’s enough to argue!”

As the freed people of Night Vale joined the fight, Tamika smiled. They might just win this.


End file.
